


Nature's Spite

by Cryptit69



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Forest Sex, He fucks a plant, M/M, Male/???, Male/Tentacles, Mildly Dubious Consent, Outdoor Sex, Plant creature - Freeform, Plant monster, Plants, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Vines, Well a pant fucks him, dear god, forest spirit, someone asked for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptit69/pseuds/Cryptit69
Summary: God forgive me of my sins.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	Nature's Spite

He mumbled, cursing to himself as he trudged deeper into the woods.  
Of course he was the one being sent out to run an ridiculous errand while his brother got to sit inside and lick batter from a spoon.  
They had both caught sneaking out. They were both punished for it. But deciding to be the caring older brother and taking the fall meant that even a week later, Hyson was the one being sent out on stupid little jobs. There were a hundred people at their father's disposal, that were payed to do all the ridiculous things no one else wanted to. Instead he sent his son out to dig through the woods. Had it not been for how close the old man was standing to the younger brother at the time, Hyson would have refused to go out. Doing so would have made taking the blame earlier in the week pointless, though. So instead he trudged through the trees and bushes muttering everything he wished he had been able to say.  
He swung his leg to pick at a clump of sticks and leaves. "Fucking mushrooms. Get them from a store like every other normal fucking person on the planet. Probably has a whole fucking stockroom of mushrooms at the restaurant. But no. Goddamn wild mushrooms. Who the fuck even eats wild mushrooms?"  
Hyson stomped his rain boot down on a small gathering of little white mushrooms. "He's the only one who even likes them. Of course he's making me go fucking mushroom hunting."  
Something caught his eye. Red mushrooms grew around the base of it like little polka dots of colour thrown into the dirt and grass. If he knew for sure that Max wouldn't eat any, he would have gathered up a handful of those and dropped them into whatever the old man was cooking. He crouched down next to the path and plucked one from the soil. "What's the change I can convince him not to eat something our old man made?" he asked the mushroom absentmindedly. "No, you're right. It'd never work." He brought the brightly coloured fungus closer to his face, and for a moment considered eating it. Possible outcomes played through his mind, none of them ending well for the kid he had been trying so hard to watch out for. With a tired sigh, he let the fungus drop out of his hand and back onto the floor where he picked it from. As he stood again he made sure to press his foot into the mushroom and grind it down into the dirt.  
He kicked another shrub, and punched at the branches of trees in his reach as he continued deeper into the woods.  
It would have been so easy to run from there. With the thick woods and nearly an hour between them, Hyson could easily make it safely away from the house before his father even noticed he was gone. "But Max." he sighed.  
The next branch to cross his path he gripped, and snapped. Leaves shook and fell at his feet. A bird in the tree chirped at the loud noise. The only thing he registered was the satisfaction of breaking something. The broken branch was tossed to the side, and another was broken.  
A path broken twigs and branches and trampled grasses and bushes formed behind him. Each step he took was an aggressive act of destruction against the world around him. All the while he continued muttering about how much he hates each plant, and how much he would love to see it all burned down.  
The next swing his leg took to assault a berry bush stopped short. His foot had impacted it, but stopped. Annoyed and more frustrated that a fruit bush had interfered with his rampage he tugged his foot back. It didn't budge. Confused, he hopped forward on his free foot to gain better leverage. He pushed. He pulled. He shook his leg. It didn't budge.  
Fear began to bubble up, and he shook and tugged his leg more. Thoughts of dying with his foot in a bush drove him to bend down to try to pull the branches, or whatever had caught him, away. Ignoring the thorns that wrapped around each branch, and had dug into his pant leg, he grabbed a twig and broke it off. Adrenaline blocked out the pain, letting him reach down for another. This time, he grabbed the stick and the thorns on it, but it didn't break. He pulled harder, but it refused to budge. When he tried to let go to pull at a different branch, he found his hand as stuck as his leg. He pulled and trashed. His hand was caught.  
Hyson leaned in closer to get a better look at what was holding him. It wasn't the branches, or the thorn. Thin vines like those on cucumber plants had wrapped themselves around his ankle, and his wrist, and continued to grow at an extraordinary rate. They grew around his palm, then curled around his fingers. By the time he was able to register exactly what he was watching, he couldn't even flex his hand. In a moment of panic he reached his free in to pull the vines away.  
He got as far as freeing two of his fingers, before the vines began to attack his second hand. Too caught up on being able to move his fingers, Hyson didn't even notice the vine slithering up his hand and around his wrist. When they tightened suddenly he realized his predicament.  
A silent sob caught in his throat as he tried to pull himself out. There was nothing he could do with one free limb, and his position certainly didn't help; bent over with both hands secured at his ankle gave little stability, and absolutely no room to wiggle himself free. Yet, he continued to try. His heart raced, pounding against his chest and thumping in his ears. His breath became quick and uneven as panic flooded him. Now for sure he knew this was where he'd die. His corpse would be found days after he died, if they even bothered to search for him.  
He glanced to the patch of earth next to the bush, and chuckled brokenly. In a cruel twist of fate, the mushrooms he had been sent in to find were now less than a foot away from him, but there was no way to get to them. With no way out, it was only a matter of time before he became food for what was supposed to be a part of their dinner. He fixed his posture, and in one last move of defiance against nature, destiny, and fate, he hopped onto them. The best he could he shifted his foot to step down every last mushroom. It was a silly thing to do, and he knew it, but it was a satisfying statement to make, even if he was the only one who would ever know about it.  
"I guess this means I win." he laughed between his panicked breaths.  
Something touched his leg.  
Thoughts raced. Could it have been an animal? A fox? A wolf even? Some predator that would be more than happy with a free meal.  
"Is anyone there?" his voice cracked.  
No one answered, but the pressure on his free leg grew harder. Instinctively he tried to move it away, but it wouldn't budge.  
He sucked in a deep breath, and glanced down.  
A vine that looked like a python compared to those around his hands had begun to snake up his calf and wrap around his shin.  
He cursed and once again pulled and struggled to loosen his hands, to end up with the same result. All he could do was watch the plant curl around his leg and seal his fate more than it already was. there was no way out now.  
It tightened around his knee, securing his stance so that there was no way for him to crouch down or even sit, and continued up his thigh. Hyson closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer, that he never thought would come out of his mouth. No matter what they had been through, prayer always sounded stupid to him, yet here he was praying to anyone to let him go. "If there is anything out there that can hear me, please. My brother needs me. Let dad find me, or even some random hermit in the woods. But please I can't-"  
The rest of his plea lodged itself in his mouth when the vine curled up to run along his crotch, then stopped. The forest was quiet and uncomfortable, but the plant had stopped. Not only did it stop, but it began to pull back.  
A silent 'thank you' fell out of Hyson's mouth as he looked up at the sky, gratitude that was expressed all too soon.  
The vine backtracked, only far enough to instead follow his leg up to his back. He could no longer see what it was doing, but he could certainly feel it. The end of the vine slipped underneath his shirt, and followed along the top of his pants as though looking for something to latch onto. It continued to follow his waistband, until it was back in front of him.  
And began trying to squeeze down the front of his pants. Hyson did his best to wiggle out of the uncomfortable situation, even if he knew there was no way a vine that thick would be able to fit into his pants.  
Then he heard his button pop, and the zipper of his pants seemingly began to undo themselves. He gasped and shifted his hips the best he could to shake the plant off, but it appeared entirely unaffected. It pressed against him, almost deliberately, as it crawled over his dick and between his legs. Shaking and working to pull free after that did nothing except have him grinding against the almost perfectly placed vine. But he kept trying.  
The plant made its way between his legs back around to his ass, and lingered there.  
"Fucking plant get out of my pants!" Hyson yelled into the woods. He tried to lean down to bite at the vines securing his hands in place.  
Entirely distracted by the vine that had made its way to his ass, Hyson never noticed the second fine engulfing him. It secured his torso exactly where it was, bent over at the waist, and continued to wrap around him. It curled around his throat, and trailed along his cheek.  
"If there's some fucking plant witch out there I wear to fucking Lucifer himself-"  
With his open to scream into the wilderness, the vine holding his head in place was able to slip into his mouth.  
Immediately, Hyson shut his teeth.  
He bit the end off the vine, and spat it out. "Fuck you."  
It tightened around his throat, reducing his air and setting him into another panic. Nothing moved. The vines stayed where they were. He kept his jaw clenched tight.  
With every breath breathing got a little harder, but he didn't budge. For as long as he could he focused on keeping his jaw wired shut. It was going well, until involuntarily self preservation forced him to open his mouth to take a deep breath. The vine around his throat loosened, but the end quickly injected itself back into his mouth. This time it moved vertically, forcing his jaw even further open so that there was no movement to get free or build up strength to bite down.  
He squirmed more, and the original vine began moving once more. It recoiled sightly to find the hole at the bottom of his boxers. It began creeping its way up, running along his skin. Then, stopped again.  
Hyson whimpered. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Anymore, with the plant securely wrapped around him, the only thing with any give was his hips. The more he tried to move, the more he ended up grinding on the plant. He hated it, but at the rate things were going it wouldn't take him long to get hard. The friction was slowly starting to feel better, and the more his hips moved the harder it was to stop them.  
When he did finally manage to suppress the urge to keep humping the plant like a degenerate, the vine resting on his ass pushed him forward. It would relax enough to let him settle back, then push his his forwards again. If it were anything but a plant in the middle of the woods, it wouldn't be so bad. So, in the middle of the woods with no one around for miles, and a plant that could never tell, was it really that bad?  
Hyson let his hips keep rolling.  
He closed his eyes to pretend that maybe there weren't bugs and birds all over the place, and make the best of it.  
But then the vine started moving again.  
It creeped along his ass, getting ever closer to his hole. He clenched and stiffened, but that didn't seem to bother the plant. It prodded at him. Hyson tried to object and explain exactly how bad that idea was, but there was nothing he could do with his mouth propped open. Faintly he could hear a sound reminiscent of the branches he had snapped, and something went dripped into him. He tried to squirm, having far from learned his lesson. He pulled hard, and in what could have only been a planned act, the vines loosened. He leaned back as the grip relaxed, and pressed back against the end of the vine.  
A gasp escaped his mouth before he even realized that he had pushed his ass back onto the tip. Immediately the vines tightened again, holding him in place. The same wiggle room as before remained, but this time shifting his hips did much more. With every move he made he could feel the position of the vine in him. Instead of grinding against it, he was essentially fucking himself on the plant. He froze the moment he realized it.  
Again, nothing moved. He tried to bite down on the plant, or turn his head, or move his fingers, all to no avail. He yelled and whimpered and kicked his legs and flailed his arms. But nothing moved, and nothing outside of him made a sound. Unsure of what else to do, he fell silent. All struggles stopped, as did any screams. He simply stood there, as still as the plant. His eyes drifted closed as adrenaline began to wear off, and he realized how tired he was after the struggle he had put up.  
The vines loosened slightly, and he relaxed into them. Slowly, the vine in his mouth allowed his jaw to close, and he rested his mouth around it. He took a deep breath. In a way it was almost calming here. Were it not for the precariously placed vine, it would be a fine place to sleep.  
But he didn't have time for that.  
All he did was open his mouth, and the vines reacted before he had a chance to act. The vine in his mouth shot back into his throat, while tightening its grip around his neck. The other pressed further into him, causing an unexpected moan to leave his constricted throat. It moved slowly, but harshly as it fucked him. There was no denying it knew exactly what it was doing: pushing deep into him, then slowly pulling back, before thrusting into him again. It gave him lots of time and space to rock his hips back against the length of the vine as it moved out.  
His lips closed around the vine in his mouth to stifle the noises he was making without meaning to. It also began moving in his mouth, rubbing against his lips and pushing itself into his throat. As long as he remained motionless, they stayed at the same slow, steady pace. All his whines and whimpers did nothing to change the pattern.  
There was no way to now how much time passed before Hyson stopped fighting himself and gave into the desperation. He moved his hips with intent, deliberately fucking himself against the plant that simply wasn't giving him enough. He relaxed his teeth, and began sucking on the appendage in his mouth. His tongue traced it, finally giving into the curiosity that had been nagging him to find the texture of the vine. They felt exactly how he had expected, but different at the same time. the texture was smooth, but it wasn't flat; it had knobs and bumps and lines along the sides of it that were oddly satisfying to follow and trace.  
Just as he was getting used to it the vine pulled out of his mouth, leading him shamelessly whining. But it didn't go far. It rested on his jaw, waiting there and supporting his head. The second vine thrust in deep once more, and again it stopped there.  
Hyson sighed and cleared his throat.  
"You win. Is that what you wanted to hear?" the desperation and weakness in his voice disgusted him, but there was nothing he could do to fight it.  
He waited, but nothing happened. For a moment he genuinely considered letting himself die there rather than apologizing. His hesitation took too long, and the vine once again tightened around his throat.  
"Jokes on you," he choked out, "I like that."  
And it stayed there. He tried moving and continuing without the plant's help, but the vine only deepened itself further into him until he stopped."  
"Okay, I'm sorry," he whined, "I'm sorry I broke all those branches. I'm sorry I kicked the bushes. And I'm sorry I stepped on the mushrooms. I should have been more respectful. I won't do it again. Please."  
Clearly pleased with his answer, the plant gave him exactly what he wanted. It fucked him hard, and fast. It held its anger in its merciless strength, but the way he moaned gave it no reason to ease up. A second thinner vine he barely even noticed slipped inside with the other, with the soul purpose of rubbing against his prostate while the larger continued to thrust into him hard and deep. It didn't take long after that for Hyson to cum, washed with too much bliss to be ashamed of the cry he let out.  
The vines continued to fuck him through it, and the one at his throat tightened slightly as he did.  
Then, as suddenly as it al began, it stopped. All at once the vines released, and drew back into the ground.  
He collapsed to his knees, panting and trying to catch his breath. His fingers dug into the earth as he grounded himself back in reality after what left like a fever dream. For only a moment, he closed his eyes, but when they reopened he realized just how much time had passed since he left the house. With the last bit of energy he had left, Hyson gathered up the remains of the mushrooms he had trampled earlier, and began stumbling back towards the house with one hand holding his pants in place.  
He was beyond exhausted and ached in places he didn't know he had, but every time a branch waved in his direction the base of his stomach churned.  
Once he reached the edge of the woods Hyson paused and looked back. "Fuck your plants. I'm coming back with a weed eater next time." he yelled back, a slight grin on his face. There was no way he'd ever be sent back to gather mushrooms, but that didn't mean he could never go back.


End file.
